bedtime

My “Particular” Guy
Almost every night, without fail, about 45 seconds after I walk out of Jonah’s room and finally sit down on my bed with the loudest internal “Ahhh,” he calls me.
“Mommmmmmmy.” Trying to summon every ounce of patience I have left, I tiptoe down the hallway quickly so as to not waking his sleeping baby brother right next door. Except as you may recall from several other posts, our floors seemed to have been transported from the Little House on the Prairie and they creak as if Pa is a’comin.
“Yes, bud. What is it?”
Usually, it’s a “can I have water, it’s too hot, why is the sky blue, can you ...Read More

Last week, I got my first “Hi, this is the nurse calling from **** School. Your son has a terrible stomach ache and his teacher would like you to come get him.”
The call came in roughly 17 minutes after I dropped him off.
To be exact, the actually came in roughly two hours from (the first time) he told me he had a stomach ache and didn’t want to go to school… to which I responded, “A tummy ache… Hmm. Maybe you should use the bathroom…?”
He said that wasn’t the problem. It was just his tummy and he wanted to stay home. In fact, he needed to ...Read More

Though bedtime has become a battle in my house as of late, there are actually a few sweet rituals that have little to no hysteria-three year-old-hostage stand-off- negotiation type qualities. One of those rituals happens to be a discussion about dreams… After I’ve told him a story about how houses are built in a factory run by five men named Bob, Steve, Joe, Fred, and Roger (don’t ask), I rock him in the chair and tell him to have sweet dreams. Of course, conversation ensues…
J: What should I dream about, Mommy?
Me: Tonight, you should dream about chocolate chips, rainbows and Giraffes who play the violin—
J: No, no, no, Mommy. I’m ...Read More